


the sistine chapel painted with a gatling gun

by devereauxed



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: Date prompts, F/F, Fluff, Painting Class, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 04:36:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11028759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devereauxed/pseuds/devereauxed
Summary: Rose and Luisa go to a painting class that doesn't really work out the way they had planned.





	the sistine chapel painted with a gatling gun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nearlymidnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nearlymidnight/gifts).



> Finally getting around to some of the prompts that people sent me.
> 
> Thanks to my lovely Mickie (@minipowdereddonuts) for this one. 
> 
> Also I put in a bunch of my beloved San Diego spots because I'm a little homesick. Mariposa and Hodad's are both real and amazing and the thing about Kristen Bell is true, I lived in the neighborhood where they filmed Veronica Mars. 
> 
> I hope you guys like it!

“Are you ready?!” Luisa exclaimed, bouncing slightly in excitement.

Rose suppressed a smile. “I’m ready. I assume you’re more than ready?” 

“Yes! I’m going to an _artiste_ ,” the brunette replied with a dramatic flair.

When Luisa had broached the idea of them taking a painting class she had assumed that Rose would be reluctant but happily found her girlfriend to be more than willing. 

“It’s one painting class, Lu. We aren’t starting an MFA at Emily Carr,” Rose told her.

“First stop painting class, next stop MFA wherever the hell that is,” Luisa replied.

“It’s in Vancouver, and I would keep my expectations low if I were you. We’re just taking a class at the Hilton.”

“Oh my expectations are staying high. I’ve seen your work,” Luisa said with a grin.

“If you bring up the drawing I did of you one more time then I am not going,” Rose said, raising an eyebrow.

Luisa leaned in and kissed her softly. “But you put hearts around it and everything.” 

“That’s it,” the redhead turned to walk away, but Luisa caught her arm and pulled her back, laughing. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” she said. “Please come be artistic with me.”

Rose sighed, pretending to be put upon, but the twinkle in her eyes giving away her true feelings. “Fine.”

Luisa grinned and took Rose’s hand, leading her out the front door. The sun was setting along the water as they drove down the 5 freeway, making their way toward the shining cluster of buildings that made up downtown. Moving to San Diego had been interesting, for Luisa especially. Living in a beach town that wasn’t Miami was jarring. Where Miami was all loud, bold colors, San Diego was laid-back earth tones. Miami was cocktails and coffee, San Diego was burgers and craft beer. Rose worried about Luisa adjusting, but she insisted again and again that if Rose was with her, she would be okay anywhere. Rose really wanted to believe her.  

As she parked the car and stepped out, Luisa caught her by surprise, pressing her gently back against the side of the car and kissing her deeply, one hand wrapped tenderly around her neck. Ever since they had left Miami Luisa had savored the ability to kiss her in public, insisting she had a lot of time to make up for. There was a possessiveness to it, a dominance that, as hard as she tried to deny it, Rose couldn’t get enough of. When she pulled back Rose leaned forward chasing her lips, but the other woman stepped back, shaking her head with a knowing smile, and grasping her by the hand to pull her along behind her. 

Rose followed dazedly, lost in the sway of Luisa’s hips, mesmerized by the glimpses of toned thighs with every step the other woman took. Lost in her blatant ogling, it took Rose longer than it should have to notice that Luisa had stopped suddenly, and she walked right into her. 

“Lu, what-“ she started but stopped when she saw the stricken look on Luisa’s face. She was pale, her back rigid, her hand tightly gripping Rose’s.

“It didn’t say,” she said, her voice tight. “The ad didn’t say.”

Rose looked around bewildered. “Didn’t say what?” Her gaze fell on a poster that brightly proclaimed ‘Paint Nite! Drink a glass of wine and create a painting—you’ll always go home with more than just a buzz!’

“Oh,” she said quietly. "Babe…”

“I didn’t know,” Luisa trailed off, her voice small. 

“Lu, it’s okay,” Rose said gently. “Look at me.” 

Luisa’s eyes remained locked onto the sign, so Rose moved in front her, blocking her view.

“I just wanted us to do something new,” Luisa told her in a defeated tone.

Rose ran her hands softly up the other woman’s arms. “There are other classes. We’ll find something.” 

“Yeah,” Luisa replied, her voice laced with doubt. 

Rose cupped her cheek and tilted her head up, nudging her to meet her eye. “It’s _okay_ ,” she insisted. Luisa gave a tight but unconvincing nod, and Rose sighed. She took Luisa’s hand and gently pulled her back toward the car. Luisa leaned her head on Rose’s shoulder sadly as they walked out of the hotel. The boisterous, bouncy Luisa of moments before had been swiftly replaced by this muted, brooding version. It was rare that she so completely lost that spark, but when it happened Rose found herself distressed enough by it that it ignited both a protective rage and a softness that only Luisa could bring out in her.

She wrapped an arm tightly around Luisa’s shoulders, already formulating a plan to make it better. 

* * *

Two days later Rose strategically spent the majority of the morning dropping hints about a desperate craving for white chocolate raspberry ice cream from their favorite place, Mariposa, and, as Luisa was not remotely stupid, she took the hint and headed out to retrieve some with a quick kiss to Rose’s forehead. Sending Luisa to Normal Heights gave her just enough time to set up the surprise she had planned, and she was placing the finishing touches when she heard the car pull up to the front of the house. 

“Did you know that Kristen Bell loves Mariposa too?” Luisa called as she made her way into the front hall, kicking the door shut with her foot. “Mary was telling me that she used to be in there all the time when they were filming Veronica Mars. Also, I got a tub of some vegan maple walnut and I know what you’re going to say but if you give it a shot I know that you’ll-“

She froze as she rounded the corner and saw what awaited her in the living room.

All of the furniture was pushed to the side of the room save two chairs and two easels that faced a table that was covered with flowers. A wide variety of paint and brushes littered the area, far more than Luisa knew she could or would use, but Rose was nothing if not over the top in every conceivable way. The woman herself stood beside the table dressed in cutoff shorts and an oversized Hodad’s t-shirt that Luisa had insisted she buy so they could fit in with the locals. 

She moved across the room to take the bags from a speechless Luisa, giving her a quick kiss.

“What?” Luisa sputtered.

“I decided that we couldn’t give up on that MFA from Emily Carr,” Rose said with a smile. “Welcome to painting class.” 

“Rose…” she whispered, trailing off as her eyes welled with unshed tears. She wrapped her arms around the taller woman and buried her face in the brown curls that hung around her shoulders. “Thank you.”

Rose kissed the top of her head. “You’re welcome.” 

Luisa breathed in, letting the warmth of this moment, here in their home, in their life together, fill her. She placed a light kiss to her shoulder and looked up at Rose.

“You know, for a sociopath you’re quite mushy and sentimental,” she said, smiling.

“Yes, I’m really quite something,” Rose replied haughtily and Luisa pinched her side.

“Behave,” Rose said pulling back and batting Luisa’s hand away. “Now I’m going to go serve us some ice cream, you change and get ready to show me all of those artistic skills that I’ve been hearing about.” 

Luisa watched Rose walk into the kitchen, affection written plainly across her face. She sighed happily and turned to head into the bedroom, throwing on some old jeans and a t-shirt before heading back to the living room as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail.

“That vegan stuff tastes like paste,” Rose said wrinkling her nose as she walked back into the room holding two bowls of ice cream. Luisa rolled her eyes as she took one of the bowls, setting it on the table in front of the easels. 

“You’re impossible,” Luisa said.

“Are you ready to paint?” Rose responded, licking the spoon rather indecently and ignoring Luisa’s comment.

“What are we painting?” she asked, and the other woman gestured to the flower covered table. 

“Roses? Really? Your real name isn’t even Rose,” Luisa said, and Rose shrugged with a smile. 

“Did you expect anything else?” she asked.

“I think I’m going to have to insist on a change,” Luisa replied.

Rose’s nose crinkled in disappointment. “Why?” 

“It’s boring,” Luisa told her. “I have something much better in mind.” 

The other woman cocked her head suspiciously. “What is it?”

“Well it’s still a Rose….” she began with a wide smile. 

Realization dawned on Rose’s face and she pointed at Luisa emphatically with the spoon. “That’s a hard no.” 

“Oh, please? Come on, Rose!” Luisa asked excitedly, hooking her thumbs into the belt loops of Rose’s shorts and pulling her closer. “It’ll make me feel better.”

Rose looked down at her thoughtfully. “That’s not playing fair.”

Luisa grinned unapologetically at her and the other woman sighed. “Fine.” 

The smaller woman placed a joyful kiss on her cheek and turned to push the table out of the way. 

“I spent so much money on those flowers,” Rose huffed. 

“Yeah, I bet it really broke the bank. Don’t act like it’s a hardship for you to buy roses,” Luisa replied as she dragged the couch back in front of the easels.

Rose collapsed onto it petulantly, crossing her legs.

“Thank you, dear,” Luisa sing-songed, placing her hands on the back of the couch and leaning in to kiss Rose on the nose. 

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get this over with,” Rose replied, sticking a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth to hide her smile.

Luisa turned and picked up a palette sitting by the pile of brushes. She grabbed a stack of paint tubes and started squeezing splotch after splotch onto it. 

“Don’t you think seventeen colors is enough?” Rose called from the couch a few minutes later. 

“It absolutely is not,” Luisa replied, adding a fifth shade of red to the palette. 

“What are you going to need so much red paint for?” the other woman asked. 

“Things,” she said, evasively.

Rose smiled knowingly. “Lu, my hair isn’t red anymore.” 

Luisa continued adding paint, haughtily avoiding Rose’s eye. “It’s called artistic license, Rose.” 

The other woman just shook her head and took another bite of ice cream. 

“Okay, here we go,” Luisa took a seat in front of the canvas, shaking her arms. She peeked around the canvas, squinting at Rose before grabbing a brush that she assumed would be the right kind and size and the palette and dipped the brush into the paint, letting it hover over the canvas. 

She tilted her head, trying to decide where to start, but nothing happened. A minute later she shifted in her seat and rolled her shoulders, trying to loosen up. 

“Problem?” Rose asked. 

“No!” Luisa said defensively. “Inspiration cannot be rushed.” 

“Ah,” Rose said, setting her empty bowl down on the couch beside her and crossing her arms. 

Minutes passed in silence with Luisa continuously shifting in her seat and stretching. Finally, she dropped the palette and brush and stood. 

“Nope, need to make a change,” she said. 

Rose stood happily. “I’ll get the flowers.” 

Luisa grabbed her by the wrist. “Not the change I had in mind.”

The other woman looked at her curiously. “Then what?”

“What is one of the greatest tropes in the history of human portraiture?” Luisa asked with a sly grin.

As Rose realized what Luisa meant she began to shake her head. “No, I already agreed to let you paint me, I’m not going to be your nude model.”

“Rose, come on,” Luisa begged, sliding her hands up under Rose’s shirt. 

“No,” she replied firmly.

Luisa moved her hands up Rose’s bare stomach under the shirt and scratched her nails across the soft skin teasingly.

“Why not?” she said with a pout. 

Rose glared at her. “Because.” 

“That’s not a good enough reason,” Luisa replied, moving her hands around to the other woman’s back and sliding them down into her shorts, squeezing her ass softly. 

The glare on Rose’s face faltered at the touch and Luisa leaned in to place soft kisses along her jaw, before whispering into her ear. “Please? For me?” She moved her hands to the button of Rose’s shorts and tugged it open, sliding the zipper down. She placed another kiss just below Rose’s ear and the taller woman tilted her head ever so slightly to the side.

Luisa took advantage of Rose’s preoccupation and began to slowly slide Rose’s shirt up her body as she sucked lightly at her pulse point. Before Rose realized what was happening Luisa had her shirt off over head and was pushing her shorts down her legs. 

“There we go, was that so hard?” Luisa said brightly, turning to move back to her easel, leaving a stunned, naked Rose in her wake. 

“That was the very definition of not playing fair,” Rose told her.

“Well when you live with sociopaths,” Luisa said, gesturing at her as she sat down again. “Sit please.”

Rose put her hands on her hips indignantly. “I don’t think so.” 

“Babe, any power you think you have is completely ruined by your shorts around your ankles,” Luisa said with a smile.

The other woman huffed and kicked her shorts away before collapsing back on to the couch. She crossed her arms and her legs sullenly.

“Now, now, be graceful. You aren’t helping to inspire me,” Luisa told her. 

Rose glared back at her and said, “If you say anything about painting me like a French girl I’m done.”

“You spoil all my fun, you know that?” she replied.

Rose moved to stand and Luisa put out her hands pacifyingly. “Okay, okay, I promise. Now give me something I can work with.”

The other woman sat up, her posture instantly changing from irritable to graceful; she arched her back slightly and leaned her elbow on the arm of the couch, resting her head on her hand as she loosened the cross of her legs to one much more elegant and suggestive. Luisa felt heat rise within her. It didn’t take much from Rose to turn her on, but this was something else entirely. She had transformed from pouty girlfriend to sensual muse in front of her eyes. 

She coughed and looked away, hiding behind the canvas, knowing that Rose could see the sudden flush on her face. She picked up the palette and brush again and swiftly began to paint. Inspiration had certainly struck now. 

Rose relaxed as Luisa began to swirl her brush across the canvas. She watched as her girlfriend became lost in the act, the tip of other woman’s tongue coming out only to be caught between her teeth in concentration. The flush that had crossed Luisa’s face as Rose posed had faded, replaced with a focus and determination that Rose found surprisingly arousing. 

She could feel Luisa’s eyes tracing her skin, following the path up her legs, across her stomach and chest, focusing deeply on her face. Luisa had spent a lot of time looking at her over the years but there was a depth and exploratory quality to this that was new. She wasn’t just looking; she was trying to capture some part of her and commit it to paper. She felt herself growing more stimulated under Luisa’s scrutiny with each passing minute and did her best not to squirm.

Nearly an hour passed and neither woman spoke - Luisa lost in her painting and Rose lost in Luisa. The air grew heavy with unresolved tension.

Rose could tell the moment her girlfriend came out of her creative stupor - her eyes cleared and her gaze became less analytical and more suggestive.

Luisa tapped the handle of the paintbrush against her lips, feigning deep contemplation.

“Can I get you to go ahead and open your legs for me?” she said. 

Rose tilted her head daringly. “Why, exactly?”

“You never really needed a reason before,” Luisa replied with a smirk. 

Rose raised an eyebrow, asking her question silently this time.

“Well,” Luisa began, setting the brush down and sliding gracefully from her chair and moving to her knees in front of the woman on the couch, placing her hands on her knees. “There are some freckles that I need to inspect. I need to make sure I capture them properly, you know. For art.” 

“For art, right,” Rose smiled as the other woman moved between her legs and ran her hands up her inner thighs gently. 

Luisa pushed Rose’s legs open wider and ran her thumbs gently along the crease where her legs met her hips.

“I need to be accurate, Rose, or there’s no point,” she smiled wolfishly. “Ah, there’s one.” 

She placed a soft kiss on a freckle gracing the skin high along Rose’s thigh. 

“Two.” Another kiss, slightly higher up. “Three.” Another. “Four.” Another. 

Rose groaned as Luisa began placing tender kisses on the freckles across her inner lips, keeping a soft count under her breath. She knew that the smattering of freckles across her pelvic bone would keep Luisa busy for awhile and slid a hand into the other woman’s hair as she counted. 

Once each freckle had been thoroughly catalogued Luisa spread her open with her fingers and flicked her tongue across her sensitive skin. She could feel Luisa humming words against her and realized she was still counting. 

“I doubt there are any freckles in there,” she panted. 

Luisa pulled back with a grin, moving to rub circles over Rose’s clit with her thumb as she spoke. “I’m just making sure. My work has to come from a place of truth.” 

Rose tugged lightly on her hair and she leaned back in and began fucking her earnestly with her tongue. Moaning loudly, Rose’s head fell back against the couch as she began rocking her hips into Luisa’s face.

Luisa replaced her tongue with two fingers, creating a deep, hard rhythm. Rose’s moans grew louder and louder and Luisa redoubled her efforts - she wanted to make her scream. After so many years of hiding and sneaking around, the ability to make Rose scream her name on a regular basis without worry was something she could never get enough of. 

She curled her fingers and sucked hard on her clit. Rose’s body arched tightly as she bucked and shuddered, giving Luisa what she wanted by screaming her name hoarsely. 

As Rose collapsed back to the couch panting Luisa pushed herself up, moving to straddle her lap, cupping her face and kissing her deeply. 

“I guess that’s something you wouldn’t have gotten at that other painting class,” Rose said with a smile as she tried to catch her breath, and running her hands up under Luisa’s shirt.

Luisa kissed her neck lightly and said, “Mmm, I’m not so sure. I probably would have found a way to fuck you in a utility closet.”

Rose rolled her eyes and grinned. “Insatiable.” 

“You know it,” Luisa pulled back and looked down at Rose seriously. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“You’re welcome,” Rose replied, softly squeezing Luisa’s hips. Luisa leaned down and gave her another soft kiss. 

When she pulled back Rose leaned to the side and asked, “So can I see the final product?”

Luisa buried her head in Rose’s neck and said, “If you have to.” 

Rose ungracefully deposited the other woman on the couch and quickly moved to the other side of the easel. She bit her lip at what greeted her. It was nothing more than blobs in a vague human form with a lot of red where the head should be. 

“It’s...wow,” she said, biting her lip.

Luisa burst out laughing. “You have the worst poker face; I don’t know how you ever ran a criminal empire.” 

“What?” Rose asked.

“Rose, it’s terrible! Mateo could paint better than that! But I enjoyed doing it, it was cathartic. That’s all I really care about,” she said with a shrug.

Rose smiled at her wickedly. “So you won’t mind that this is going on the mantel?”

Luisa cocked an eyebrow at her. “You’re really putting a nude painting of you on display for all the world to see?”

“Babe, trust me, nobody would be able to tell that’s a human, let alone me naked.”

Luisa faked a gasp and smacked Rose’s leg as she moved back to sit next to her on the couch. 

“But I’m proud of you,” Rose said affectionately.

Luisa grinned back at her. “Turns out there’s no limit to what I can do when you’re sitting in front of me naked.”


End file.
